


a monster of a dicking

by Ephen



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Monsters, Other, Size Difference, gifted 2 myself bc big monsters are a gift in itself, it's - Freeform, just monster porn tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 05:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11224365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephen/pseuds/Ephen
Summary: But with a hulkingmonster- or beast orwhateverthis creature is - hovering over his back, he definitely feels fragile and delicate and frail. He feels… small. Small in size and inferior to the sheer bulk of animalistic muscle.





	a monster of a dicking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ephen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephen/gifts).



> yeah so this is purely bc i have an adoration for big monsters and ffxv was a goldmine for my imagination and this is the subject of letting it run wild tbh Whatevs, also please dont look @ the title too hard
> 
> (for a visual image, imagine a stage 3 goliath from evolve ig)

Ethan could call himself a few words, some that could be seen as tooting his own horn, maybe. 

Charismatic is one, as he's always had a way with words when he needs to. Chipper is another and he knows he can be quite lively at times. He considers himself an optimist, a glass-half-full kinda guy. Independent, capable, determined. If he really felt like it, there were quite a few words he could describe himself with in a positive light and he wouldn't feel guilty for feeling _egotistic_ , in a certain way.

Delicate isn’t one of them. He's got smooth skin, brittle bones, a pliability over his body that allows him to quite literally bend over backwards. But not once would he call himself _delicate_.

He has hardened skin from both the plastic and titanium strings of his ukulele and perhaps years on a keyboard and mouse to add to it. He has lean muscle, in bumps and grooves of his arms and shoulders, firm calves that could easily push his whole body weight into one of the backflips he's particularly known for. He’s not frail or delicate or fragile.

But with a hulking _monster_ \- or beast or _whatever_ this creature is - hovering over his back, he definitely feels fragile and delicate and frail. He feels… small. Small in size and inferior to the sheer bulk of animalistic muscle.

Hefty paws (claws, perhaps?) could shred Ethan in a second and the thick, ashen hide adorned with barbs and spikes that are more akin to sharp mountain rocks seem equally as threatening. Those same claws have his _fragile_ body pinned, all sheer muscle and scale-like armour plates shifting with each movement the creature makes.

There’s saliva dripping on his bare nape and shoulders. It’s thick and warm and probably disgusting, but he probably wouldn’t wipe it away if he could. It’s heated like the rest of the monster. The glow of orange and red hues are settled deep within the body of the beast, heavy in colour of its neck where overlapping armour plates lie to create the shape of gills. It faintly burns in the chest of it too, where it’s almost pressed flush against the skin of his lower back.

It’s warm inside too. Burning hot. Ethan feels drunk and flushed and dazed from how sweltering the monster is _inside_ him, its cock all rough ridges, thick and heavily _sultry_ inside. Ethan feels horribly fragile when it growls and he moans at how the noise rumbles from its chest and through his back.

But, if he’s honest, he loves it. The monster is significantly larger and stronger and makes Ethan feel breakable with one twitch of its muscles. But it isn't _moving_. Its breathing causes the whole muscular frame it has to shift and that’s all it does, stare down at Ethan as if waiting for anything other than the occasional writhing and shifts of his own body.

“Oh, fu-uck,” His voice breaks and his face flushes more from how his voice sounds, cracked and broken. Wrecked already. “Please, _p-please_ , just-” He tries to utter out the words coherently to the monster and it's a lost hope; the monster probably barely knows anything other than its own mess of growls and snarls. Ethan attempts to shuffle back closer to it, meeting a dim heat against his thighs as he almost becomes flush against the monster even more. That seems to spur it into moving.

Its face, a ruined maw of bone and crooked canines and lower mandibles, is intent on Ethan as it moves. It never loses a pace of raw animalistic thrusts and never stops growling. If it resonated within his stomach before, the noises now tremble through Ethan’s whole being. 

Even with one arm pressed firmly against the floor along with his upper back, he can still reach a hand back to grasp at the smoother plane of the creature’s hip and wander along the protruding thighs wide with pure strength. Ethan groans when he feels the twitch of muscle underneath a thick hide and likes to think he shuffled backwards to get impossibly closer. There’s not much room to get any closer to the beast.

With all the warmth and driving shoves of its cock inside, it isn’t long until the tingling sparks of impending orgasm make themselves present in Ethan’s abdomen. He stares up at the face of teeth and ridges of armour and a mouth of radiant orange with a long tongue. Its eyes are intently trained on him and nothing else.

Ethan’s faintly aware of the broken muttering and whimpers he’s resorted to. It’s all “Please” and “More” and multiple jumbles of curses towards the burning, violent pleasure that tortures his each nerve.

His mess of words only stops when the monster snarls, more saliva decorating his back as it comes, a heavier heat than before filling Ethan up as he trembles beneath the beast’s hulking form. He barely registers when he comes too, weak and frail and _fragile_ in the monster’s strong grasp. 

Ethan feels dazed, drunk, hazy. He feels fragile to his very core when placed beneath the lumbering form of this brute, and as if he’s broken glass under its powerful grip.


End file.
